


prove me wrong

by SoftForDream



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Developing Relationship, Figure Skater GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hockey Player Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Ice Skating, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oneshot Prompts Challenge, Sexual Tension, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftForDream/pseuds/SoftForDream
Summary: george, a figure skater, and dream, a hockey player, both try and prove each other wrong; their sport is harder than the other'sorthe dumb bitches fight over who has it tougher.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 288





	prove me wrong

**Author's Note:**

> so basically, my server had another writing event type of thing and i got this prompt right here.
> 
> yes, it was rushed, but who cares right?
> 
> here's the link if you want to join; https://discord.gg/tRTqH4s

Letting himself glide across the ice freely, was simply one of the best feelings he could wish for.

Just the pure feeling of the cold air nipping at his exposed, red cheeks, was enough to have him hooked on it. It was rather something he has grown to love over the various years of him skating, but as of recently, it was the only thing keeping him from going numb and emotionless. It was rather ironic, though, seeing as the cold bite against his skin was numbing the exposed areas, but that was just the beauty which came along when it came to ice skating.

He was still adamant it was one of his favourite things to do, it was the only one too. Over the course of many years, he has picked up a lot of interests in different things, but he never stuck to them.

Well, except for ice skating.

Countless hours spent at the ice rink for practice, the countless wounds and injuries along the way, it all paid off. It all paid off, just so he could feel at peace, just so he could finally feel the weight lift off his shoulders. Ice skating was the closest he felt to flying, metaphorically, gliding across the ice made him experience the feeling of spreading his wings and flying. He found himself incredibly lucky, the fact that his parents urged him on and on to keep on skating, he wasn’t even mad about them giving him a little push. If they hadn’t, he wouldn’t be attending college with his sports scholarship, without them, he wouldn’t be able to compete and showcase his skills in front of a large audience, if it weren’t for them, he would have never met him.

Him being named Clay, the goalie of his college’s hockey team.

Him also being one of the sweetest and funniest people he has ever had the opportunity to meet, not to mention the fact that he was the definition of a sunshine. He never failed to make George’s days better, especially if he was stressed due to a competition or maybe an upcoming exam, the guy always found a way to make the brunet smile. He didn’t know where the blond had come from, he didn’t know what he saw in George which made him go; ‘This dude is nice, become friends with him.’, but oh well, whatever floats his boat, right? 

It’s been about five months since they first interacted and about four months since they’ve started hanging out regularly. It even became a routine for each other to randomly come and watch the other practice, despite George feeling anxious about the possibility of him falling and embarrassing himself in front of his friend.

But hey, in the end, both of them ridiculed each other for any possible reason.

Let it be George randomly failing to do a triple axel, or possibly because Clay would have his attention set on the brunet sitting on the bleachers, instead of watching where he’s going. Many times has that been the reason as to why he would end up with his face slamming against the wall, which then resulted into his nose turning just a tad bit bloody.

Point is, they were both idiots, so George was left to presume it was for that reason that they were compatible.

“Bitch!”

Speaking of the devil.

“Hi fuckface!” He responded, before he let out a laugh and willed himself to stop from gliding, in order to prevent any possible injuries. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep calling me that and I’ll make the nickname come true, you’ll be first in the line.” Clay spoke, which caused George to completely stop. His cheeks flushed crimson red, even more than the way they were before. Honestly, he should’ve been used to the blond’s suggestive jokes by now, but whenever he said something sexual sounding, it always evolved into him turning red, alongside that also losing his ability to form a coherent sentence. 

“Sh-Shut up, you pervert.” Clay only laughed, before he set his hockey stick down and sat down onto the bleachers. 

“You know you love it.” George let out a long sigh as he made his way to the exit of the rink, only to lean against it and watch as his friend struggled to tie his skates’ laces. He couldn’t help himself from letting out a short giggle, accompanied by a raised eyebrow, which then resulted in the blondie shooting him a glare.

“Shut it.” 

“I didn’t even say anything.” George mused, the corners of his lips tugged up in a small smile.

“I know you were going to say something. Is it that bad if I’m prepared beforehand?” 

“Since when are you prepared for anything?” 

“Since I’ve met you, duh.” With his laces being tied into a huge, jumbled mess, the blondie stood up and wobbled over to the entrance to the rink, only for George to block him from doing so by pushing him back towards the bleachers. If the idiot can’t tie his skates properly, then George will just be forced to do it for him, so that was exactly what he did. 

“You’ll trip one of these days if you don’t learn how to tie them properly.” He spoke, before he rolled his eyes and sunk down onto his knees in front of the blond. The position was rather suggestive, but there were many more situations that have been far worse than this one. If anything, the two were used to being like this, George tying Clay’s skates because the blond couldn’t be asked to properly learn how to do it. 

“Oh wow, George. I mean, take me out to dinner first, will you?” 

Whatever he was currently doing, George dropped it in less than a second, only to glance up at his friend and shoot him a glare, but not before a sly smirk slid onto his face.

“We’ve been on a lot already, don’t you remember?” 

“Damn, but we could at least take it to the bedroom if you have such dirty intentions.” George immediately shut up, before he returned to tying the boy’s skates. The pair turned silent, each having different thoughts swarming inside their heads at the moment. It stayed like that for the next thirty seconds, up until George pushed himself up onto his feet, then he proceeded to stick his hand out for Clay to grab it.

“Unless you want to end up smushed against me, remove that hand of yours. You know you can’t pull me up, pip squeak.” Clay said, then let out a short laugh.

“Who the fuck are you calling pip squeak? I mean, at least I’m not a Florida man.” He retorted with a scoff. 

“At least I’m not short. Like damn, Georgie, did mitosis reject you or something?” The brunet let out another huff, crossed his arms and then turned around to walk back to the rink. His hips swayed just a tad bit in the process, and he didn’t know whether or not it was on purpose, but he was aware of the fact that it was doing something to the taller boy. Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason as to why he was walking the way he was.

“At least my sport is harder than yours.” 

“You’re going there, now?” The blondie questioned, raising one of his eyebrows as he joined the brunet on ice.

“I’m not lying. Try and do a couple of flips and spins, maybe a step sequence. All you - hockey players - do, is play around with a puck and try and hit the goal.” George said with a shrug, as he glided backwards on the ice, keeping his eyes focused on his friend’s figure.

“Yeah, but imagine getting pushed around, slammed into, all that bullcrap, try and keep the puck and score a goal, then we’ll speak. Hockey is harder, you need to be strong, stealthy and on your watch, ready for being attacked from every possible side, only to not score the goal in the end. And all you skaters do is flip around and do some tricks, which is less dangerous than what I do. Prove me wrong.” Clay responded, before he bit his lip and let his gaze wander off to the bleachers. 

Anything to keep his eyes off of George.

“Oh come on, you don’t even know half the stuff we have to do to keep up with our figure and you don’t know what sorts of dangerous flips we do. It’s not just executing them perfectly, but also landing correctly. You don’t know how badly hurt you could get, just by simply missing your landing. Prove me wrong.” George retorted, he himself also raised one of his eyebrows to stare at the blond in front of him.

“There are so many rules to hockey, what is allowed and what isn’t, meanwhile you all are free to do whatever you want, prove me wrong.” Clay challenged, skating closer to the brunet.

“There are forbidden flips, forbidden step sequences, meaning we do have rules. At least you guys don’t have to worry about what you wear, seeing as you wear the same thing to every single game of yours. Prove me wrong.” George also slid across the ice, closer to the blondie.

“In hockey, you have to watch your step, you can’t hit the puck or control it with anything other than the flat side of your stick, meanwhile skaters don’t have to worry about hitting anything or anyone. Hockey is a team sport, you have to work as a team and trust each other, which is far more harder than skaters. You guys don’t have to worry about your teammates’ mistakes. Prove me wrong.” Clay responded, slowly closing the distance between them.

“Whilst skating, you have to rely on yourself. You have no one else to help you out of a sticky situation, at least if you aren’t working in pairs that is. You guys have your coaches there to yell at you as to what to do and if you fail to keep the puck to yourself, you can just pass it on. In skating, you have to trust yourself which is not an easy task, it’s really hard at times to be honest. You don’t know whether or not you’re good enough to execute a certain jump or flip, you don’t know whether or not you’ll be able to land correctly, it’s all just an anxious mess. Skating is harder, prove me wrong.”

By this point, George and Clay were only about three feet apart from each other.

“Actually, we don’t have our coaches yelling at us regarding what to do, we have time outs for that. If you can’t keep the puck to yourself, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be able to pass it on in time. If you miss a goal, you’ll be dealing with obvious disappointment from your teammates, meaning hockey players carry a heavier weight on their chest. Prove me wrong.”

Two feet apart.

“You compete alone, you have no one to rely on except yourself, as I’ve said. Imagine failing in front of so many people, if you lose one game it’s not the end of everything, but if I fail one of my competitions, it gives people the impression of me. If it’s a bad one, it’s not a good thing, now is it? Let’s say I fail in an important competition, a competition broadcasted on the television? I would probably end up leaving a bad impression on the judges and possible scouts watching me, meaning it could make my future a bit tougher when it comes to ice skating. One game won’t mess you up, but one competition could mess up an ice skater’s life. Prove me wrong.” 

One foot apart.

“If there’s a scout on one of our games and we mess up, it could leave a bad impression too, we’re in the same boat in this case. Look at it from my point of view, you’re me, someone whom the coach talks about a lot and gains attention from one of the scouts from a professional team. Imagine that the scout comes to the game and you mess up badly, that would give off a bad impression, too, would it not? Georgie, accept the fact that you can’t prove me wrong, will you?” 

Standing chest to chest with the brunet, having to stare down at him, both of them could feel each other’s cockiness starting to fade, purely due to no space between them.

“How about this, we teach each other some tricks, yeah? Then we can decide who’s right, alright?” George whispered, voice a tad bit higher yet raspier than it was before. The tension was growing thicker and thicker by the minute, them pressed up together like they’ve never been before, with Clay starting him down like he was his prey. The biggest problem was the fact that he didn’t mind it at all, if anything, it made him feel like he was high. 

He felt wanted, and it was more than just exciting.

“Of course, darling. If you’re prepared to be proven wrong, then why not? It’s not like a couple of flips is hard, anyway.” The blond’s tone was the same as George’s, yet there was an obvious difference. His rather dropped lower than it was before, bordering the line between a normal voice of his or rather his - as dumb as it sounded -, seductive voice. They were pressed up so close, if he just leant a bit further down, he could whisper directly into the boy’s ear. 

God. he could imagine how red his cheeks would turn and how stuttery he would become, he would be pliant under his gaze. Just the thought was doing stuff to him which it shouldn’t, but could he be blamed? It’s George who he’s talking about, the attractive man he dared to call his closest friend, the man who could have him wrapped around his pinky finger if he wanted to, a man who could make him do unimaginable things just by asking.

“What do you mean, me getting proven wrong? That’s something straight out of your dreams, so keep on imagining stuff, maybe it’ll bring you somewhere at some point, yeah?” George retorted, before he bit the inside of his cheek.

“As if, you’ll see. Hockey is hard to play, not like ice skating. You only need to do flips and stuff, meanwhile we have actual rules to go by and we have to work with teammates.” 

“You’ve said that already, like five times. Come on, come up with something original for once, you need to keep up your ‘I’m great at comebacks and backtalk’ reputation.” George was walking on the edge right now, his cockiness was slowly but surely returning, but so was his confidence. Meanwhile Clay was still looking at him with one eyebrow raised, seeing as George was trying to argue with him, not knowing that their current position wasn’t making him threatening at all.

“I know I have, but I’ve learnt that when I’m around you I need to keep repeating what I say, mostly due to you not listening to me half the time and rather staring at me, am I right?” The blond slowly but surely leant down, so he was whispering directly into the boy’s ear. His voice was daring, urging the boy to keep on arguing about it, not knowing that George won’t back down if he did this. But oh well, the shorter wasn’t complaining.

“You know what, yeah, maybe I do stare at you, because your dumb face is annoying me.” 

“You call it dumb, but I know I’m irresistable.”

What they were currently doing, was nowhere near close to the word platonic. Far from it, actually, but both of them were too competitive to stop and say anything. So what did they do? They rather kept on staring at each other, challenging the other to keep on going.

“Who told you that, your mother?” 

George yet again bit his lip, but this time it was to prevent him from laughing and breaking his character.

“No, but your mother did. She told me that just last night.” 

“Your mom jokes are overrated. Come up with something original, then hit me up.” With that, George moved his head a tad bit away from where it was close to Clay’s, but his body was unable to. He didn’t really want to move, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Somewhere along the time which passed, the blondie had managed to wrap one of his arms around his waist, pulling him closer than before.

It seems impossible, but it was true.

There was no space between them, only a few more inches and their lips would connect.

“You know you wouldn’t last without me. Keep trying to tell yourself you would, but we know you would crawl back to me in a matter of a few hours.” Clay wasn’t necessarily wrong, but George wasn’t the one to tell him that. If anything, he would force himself to be away, just to see how long it would take for the blond to give in and call him. Then again, he wasn’t really ready to start another dumb challenge, or more like a bet.

“Of course I would. Do you think I’m dependent on you?” The Brit questioned.

“You act like you are. You know that.” 

Clay leant down even further, yellowish eyes meeting George’s brown ones yet again, but this time far more closer. Both of their hearts were beating rapidly inside their chests, seeing as this was something out of their comfort zones, something that friends usually didn’t do, something that they shouldn’t even be doing right now. The shorter could feel the blond’s warm breath fanning against his lips, seeing as there were only about five inches of space between their lips.

Both of them slowly grew quiet.

“Clay-,” HIs voice was soft and barely heard, but still there.

“Hm?”

“We- We should start learning each other’s sports now, right?” Just like that, the tension rose even higher than it was before. George’s cheeks were flushed red, his lips were slightly parted and sweat was slowly starting to form on his neck. He felt like he was going to suffocate in his clothing, he felt all hot over, but it made no sense as to why. They were in a cold place, he barely had anything warm on, so why did he feel like he was slowly but surely going to melt? 

“Why? I’m comfortable here.” He muttered as a response. 

“We aren’t going to get anything done.” Their voices were still barely over a whisper.

“The question here is, do I want to get anything done right now? I mean, I’m satisfied with what I’m doing right now.” 

“And what are you doing, Clay?” 

“You.” 

George’s cheeks turned even more red, his breathing was hitched and irregular, his chest was raising and falling rapidly and he felt like it was only him and Clay now. No one else, just them. No ice rink, no possibility of anyone walking in on them, just the two of them, floating in the middle of nothingness, wrapped up in each other’s embraces.

Their faces were so, so close.

“Clay!” 

The two boys snapped out of it as soon as they heard a third voice yelling at the blond. In a hurry, they detangled themselves from one another, both of their faces flushed, hair messy and sweat glistening on their skin. George could feel his waist burning where Clay had held him, he could feel his lips tingling as the warmth of the blond’s breath had disappeared, he could feel the suffocating feeling disappearing as soon as they had separated.

“Coach, hi!” Upon speaking again, the boy had to cough to get rid of the raspiness it had grown to have.

“What are you doing here so early? Don’t you have classes?” The man questioned, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one of his eyebrows, whilst staring at the blond with an accusing stare.

“I don’t, no. They were cancelled due to too much snow, teachers couldn’t make it, so me and George here had decided to spend our time here and practice.” The first part was true, but the second part was completely off. The two weren’t going to practice at all, instead they were going to fool around on ice and just relax for the time being, practice was scheduled for after lunch. They didn’t even worry about the time, though, seeing as no one was going to come to the rink anyway. If anything, the only people who could come here were children and their parents, but due to there being snow day, he presumed they were going to stay at home or go play out in the snow.

They had no worries whatsoever, but there was this small question tugging at his brain. Why was the coach here today? Like, damn, it was a snow day, didn’t he have better things to do? 

Well, that was a dumb question, but Clay wasn’t here to argue with himself.

If anything, he was just salty about the fact that his and George ‘s moment was interrupted by the man, especially when he was about to do something he’s been trying to achieve for months. He was almost there, he could feel, he could see the image of how nice it would be to kiss the boy, but here they were, both a blushing mess with Clay’s coach staring at them like they were some criminals. 

“Alright. Do you mind if I stay here and watch you practice?” 

Well, fuck.

“Actually, me and George were about to go and grab a bite to eat. We’ve been here for about two hours now.” Another lie slipped past his lips and into the cold air. He was either about to be called out for lying, or the coach will praise him for how responsible it was of him to practice so much. Unless he looks at the ice and notices how there were barely any indents in it, he was going to get away with his lie, if not, he doesn’t know what the coach will do.

“Oh, yeah, that’s alright. Just make sure to not tire yourself out, we have practice tomorrow and we can’t really have you feeling sore.” He spoke. 

“I know, I know, don’t worry. We’re done for now, we’ll chill for a few more hours and then I’ll see if I’m up for more practice. Besides, two hours are nothing compared to you coaching us.” Clay answered, before he turned his gaze to the boy next to him. 

George was looking down at his white skates, wordless.

“I mean, I do have to keep you up in the best shape possible.” The blondie only hummed, then proceeded to grab George’s hand and drag him over to the exit of the rink. Well, their plan was now going to be cancelled for the next hour or two, but he presumed it was going to be alright anyway. It’s not like it matters, right? It didn’t matter if they started now or later, the outcome will be the same nonetheless.

Clay’s coach said nothing after that, seeing as he didn’t get an answer, so he plainly left. 

The blond only shrugged in response, shook his head and brushed it off. His coach was rather odd, but that’s why the team liked him as much as they did. He was a great man, honestly, he just sometimes needs to loosen up, is all. 

Despite him leaving, though, George was still speechless. His cheeks didn’t go back to normal, due to the fact that the scene kept on playing inside his head. He still felt like they were trapped in that moment, pressed up together in the middle of the rink, no one else except for them. It felt amazing, but at the same time, it felt like something had just been ruined between them, mostly due to the sexual tension growing with each minute passing. 

With each minute them not saying anything, the boy was getting more and more frustrated with himself.

He needed a distraction, he needed to do something to forget what was about to happen, but the problem was the fact that he didn’t know what. Everything was revolving around Clay right now, and he could do nothing to prevent it. 

Was this the point where the joke had gone too far? Was this one of the rare few cases where they made a mistake of letting things escalate the way they had? Or was it another harmless joke they’ll forget about in a matter of a few hours? He didn’t know, but he could admit he was desperate to know. He wanted to know whether or not they’ll return back to normal and the tension will be gone, or if the tension will stay and they’ll turn awkward? Curse Clay for causing this, curse them and their competitive nature and their cocky attitudes.

Wasn’t it enough that he already had feelings for the blond?

Apparently not. 

“George? You alright?” The boy’s train of thought was interrupted by the taller resting his hand on George’s shoulder. His voice was close, yet so far from him. He felt like he was stuck in his thoughts with a distant voice calling for him, desperate to bring him back to the real world.

“I’m okay, yeah. What do you want to eat?” He switched up the topic.

“I honestly don’t care. Want to go to the bakery and grab a slice of pizza, or something along those lines?” Clay asked, only to get a rapid nod from the other. He wasn’t about to argue about their food choice right now, seeing as there were other things he had on his mind, besides, he hasn’t had pizza in probably a month now? He honestly didn’t know, nor could he be bothered to worry about it.

“Do you want to go to the one across the street, or the one a few blocks down? The one with the cafe, you know?” 

“Yeah, alright. Just- give me some time to change, is that okay?” The blond nodded, before he sat down and started tugging off his skates, George quickly following him. 

The silence still stayed, hanging around the tense air around them. Both of them were thinking about the same thing right now, and it was the moment of pure heat. George could still feel the flames crawling up his skin, slowly but surely making him feel like he was about to explode. He didn’t even know what he wanted, if they had kissed, would it have been the perfect moment for that, or not? Was Clay even thinking whilst doing what he had been doing? Or was it all just a large prank, revolving around their friendship? Was everything just a joke to him, was this a dare of his? Was it a dare to make friends with him and then kiss him?

George was slowly but surely delving deeper into his thoughts, overthinking everything that had happened earlier.

“George, are you sure you’re okay? You keep on spacing out.” Yet again, Clay was there to snap him out of his thoughts. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Just- I’ll be right back, I need to change.” With that, he grabbed his duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his skates and headed off to the changing rooms. His thoughts were rushing at the speed of thousand miles per hour, or at least he felt like they were, seeing as there was no direct or correct answer to that statement. 

Why did it have to happen now? He didn’t want to have his mind plugged up by his friend. 

He couldn’t.

Sure, he was aware of the fact that Clay most likely liked him in a romantic way - even if his mind was telling him it was a bet -, it’s not like George wasn’t feeling the same, but he had to be responsible here. He didn’t have time for a relationship, nor did he know how to be in one. If he and Clay were to get into a relationship, neither of them would have the time for it. It would end up being a mess, resulting in a possible breakup, which would then also escalate into their friendship being lost forever. 

He didn’t want that.

Maybe after college, but for now, he didn’t know. He was a bit iffy about it all, especially with the nationals slowly but surely coming closer and closer.

They were only two months away, and he didn’t have the time to have anything else on his mind except for ice skating, meaning that he needs Clay to leave his thoughts. At least for this time period, that is. He’ll see what he’ll do, maybe he’d have to talk to the boy about it. Maybe they could have a heart to heart talk if it came down to it, but he doubted that Clay would want that. The boy wasn’t exactly the person to talk about his feelings, so there was a huge chance he may not even get to talk it out.

George let out a long sigh as he tugged his sports blouse over his head and threw it onto the floor with a little bit of force. 

For no reason, anger was slowly starting to form inside his stomach. He didn’t know why, but it was happening, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

He slightly shook his head in hopes of shaking his thoughts out as well, before he grabbed his hoodie and slung it over his head. 

‘Why the fuck can’t I have a crush on someone who doesn’t know me? Why does it have to be him? Out of all people I could’ve fallen for, for example Jordan from Clay’s team, I fell for him. Well- not in love, of course not, but it’s a strong liking, isn’t it?’ His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and this was one of the very few coherent sentences he could bare to make out. All others were just muffled or slurred together.

He tried to brush it off for the rest of the time whilst he was changing, and he somehow managed.

Somehow.

By somehow, he meant barely.

When he finally managed to get changed, he returned back to the bleachers where Clay was awaiting for him. His gaze was overlooking the other side of the rink, but it was not focused. It was like he was staring at a blank space with no purpose whatsoever, but then again, he looked like he was lost deep in thought, much like George had been just a few minutes ago. He was tempted to just lean against the bleachers and observe the blond, yet he knew he shouldn’t. Besides, they should get going anyway so they can come back to the rink as soon as possible.

“Clay? Are you ready to go?” He asked, then proceeded to collect his thoughts and close them off in an imaginary jar inside his head. The blond seemed to snap out of it, just like George previously had, but unlike the brunet, he was looking rather concerned to say the least. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips looked bitten, as if he was feeling a bit anxious. The shorter one had no idea what must’ve caused him to feel that way, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to ask him.

It just seemed like it wasn’t his business whatsoever.

“Yeah, sure. Just let me grab the- my stuff.” He answered, but unlike earlier, he was looking a bit down.

It was like all energy was drained out of him, for no apparent reason. It’s not like they’ve done anything tiring earlier, at least Clay hadn’t. The only thing they did was have that heated moment, and that was it. Otherwise he didn’t have a single clue as to why the blond looks a bit beaten down. 

Wordlessly, Clay eventually does get around to picking his duffle bag and hockey stick up, before he trudged over to the locker rooms. George was of course on his tail, silently following him like some sort of a lost dog. He felt like the energy was off again, but this time it was a bit worse than it was earlier, at least he thought it was like that, when in all honesty, he had no idea if he was right. He didn’t know whether or not Clay felt the same he was currently feeling, so he was left to have that question unanswered.

“So, the plan is, we grab something to eat, maybe a coffee to go and then we come back? Or what did you have in plan?” George then spoke up. 

“Yeah, something like that could work. But I don’t know, I feel like my coach knows that I wasn’t actually being honest with him earlier, so what if he comes back and sees me fooling around? Like, I know it wouldn’t really have any consequences, but I don’t know if he would trust me again if he saw that I was lying to him,” Clay paused, let a few minutes pass, then he shook his head and continued; “I’m just paranoid, forget I said anything.” 

With that, he turned around and started his walk towards the exit of the building.

Again, George was trailing behind him like some sort of a lost puppy. 

“Hey, can you please wait up?” The brunet said, huffing a tad bit as he was forced to walk faster to keep up with Clay. At times like these, it was unfair how long the blond’s legs were in comparison to his own. He was sometimes even envious of how tall the Floridian was, but he couldn’t exactly do anything to help himself, now could he? Well, unless he found some sort of a magical surgery which would make him grow five more inches, but that was just ridiculous.

“Okay.” 

“Thank you. Now will you tell me what your issue is? Earlier, you seemed just fine.” He commented, as soon as he managed to catch up with him.

“I said forget about it. It’s nothing major, I’ll feel better as soon as I eat something.” They turned silent yet again, which caused annoyance to nip at George’s stomach. Was he actually right? Was this tension actually going to stay, or will it blow off in a few hours, because as of right now, it wasn’t looking too bright for him, now was it? He was desperate to know if he had done something wrong, but that was a mission impossible if Clay wasn’t willing to cooperate. 

“Clay, please.” He shot his hand out to latch onto the blond’s arm.

“I’m fine, knock it off.” George stopped. He completely stopped walking and let go of Clay’s arm. 

“What did I do now? You’re acting weird all of a sudden, what did I d0?” He questioned, staring at the boy’s yellowish eyes. The gaze was rather uncomfortable, seeing as George felt like he was getting pinned down, but he was going to make it work somehow. He wasn’t just going to back down purely due to Clay’s gaze melting him. 

“You didn’t do anything, now come on. We need to get to the cafe, and as you can see, the snow is still falling. Unless you want to turn into a snowman, I suggest we actually get a move on.” His voice was so distant and so cold, unlike his gaze. They were polar opposites, his gaze was burning him and his tone was making him freeze in the spot.

“I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.” The shorter stated, then proceeded to cross his arms over his chest,

“Alright, what do you want to eat and drink? I’ll just bring it here, then.” He answered.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me? Clay, did I do something wrong, please.” 

“You didn’t do anything. Now come on, can we get a move on or at least you tell me what you want to eat?” 

“Bring me some coffee and a sandwich I guess.” And just like that, George turned around and walked back into the semi-warm building. Not to admit it or anything, but it stung just a tad bit, seeing as Clay wasn’t willing to tell him what’s wrong. So what did he opt for doing whilst waiting?

Skating.

Again.

\----

Triple axel, followed by a lutz, then executed by a step sequence, and for the end, a quadruple salchow.

Easy? 

Not in the slightest.

So why was George trying to execute such a routine, when he could end up injuring himself badly? Honestly, he didn’t know, but he could blame it on anger in the end. Anger and exhaustion, both of them colliding inside his body and fighting against one another, trying to overpower each other. 

He was not only angry and exhausted today, but overall was fed up with feelings. He knew that he should genuinely just forget about everything, but he couldn’t help himself from having his mind set onto Clay. As of recently, it’s been becoming harder and harder to battle his attraction towards the blond, when he knew that it wouldn’t bring him anything other than a heartbreak or a failed relationship. And now, what they had done earlier, it was far too much for him to comprehend.

Even despite that happening almost an hour ago, it was fresh.

It was fresh and it kept on repeating itself in his head. Why the fuck was he so attracted to a dumb voice? And how did he manage to like the fact that the blond was so much taller than him, it made him feel at his mercy? Why did he like that, and why did he want to experience more of it? Surely this was ridiculous, right?

He was in the middle of executing a jump - the last one - before his name got called.

“George, I’m back!”

He messed up his jump.

Landing rather awkwardly with a loud thud and a small yelp of pain, George could immediately feel pain crawling up his left leg. In a split second, he was left to grip at his leg in hope to ease the pain, but it didn’t help at all. If anything, it just frustrated him further on, seeing as he was now left on the cold ice with a small injury. 

Well, at least he hoped it was a small one, unless he wanted to be murdered by his coach.

“Fuck.” He muttered to himself, face contorted into a frown.

What did he do after that, then?

He sucked it up.

He sucked it up, stood up and wobbled over to one of the many exits of the rink. Coincidentally, it was the one on the other side from where Clay was standing, looking at the brunet with worry etched on his face. Returning his attention back at his injury, George went on to presume it was nothing major, except for maybe a bruise, seeing as he didn’t exactly land with an angle which could potentially twist or break his ankle. He was going to be fine, yeah. 

“George are you okay?” The blond yelled out, making sure to be loud enough for the brunet to hear him.

“Uh- Yeah!”

‘No you’re not,’ He thought to himself, gritting his teeth as another burst of pain shot through his leg. Clay was slowly but surely coming closer and closer, halfway running around the rink so he could get to the boy faster, though he had to be careful to not spill the coffee he was holding. It was rather an interesting process to watch, yet George didn’t mind the slight entertainment he got from the Floridian struggling to hold everything up.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful to not disturb you in case you were doing something, I-,” The tall blond was spewing out apologies left and right, trying to find appropriate wording to apologise for his dumb actions, when in realit he shouldn’t even be doing that. It’s not like it was his fault anyway, he couldn't have known that George was practicing, could he? 

“It’s not your fault, though.”

“I just- are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re in pain.” Clay then asked, before he gently lowered the coffees and sandwiches down onto the bleachers next to them. 

“I’m fine, it’s probably just a small bruising. I’ll be able to skate, don’t worry. Besides, if you think you’re getting out of me proving you wrong, you’re not. See, this is one of the main factors as to why skating is harder than hockey, look at where I ended up.” He answered, his cockiness returning back. He was feeling a bit better now, seeing as he got food and Clay finally looked like he got his shit together. The only thing left to do now is to either confront him about what had happened earlier, or continue doing what they were supposed to be doing.

Proving each other wrong.

“Oh come on, you can’t seriously- you know what, fine. Pull that card out, I don’t care.” 

George only giggled in response, before he grabbed one of the sandwiches from beside them, unwrapped it and started munching on it. He could barely feel his fingers right now, which made it a bit hard to hold it up, but he was somehow managing. Honestly, he really should’ve listened to his friend when he was told to buy himself some gloves to fight off the coldness of the rink, yet here he was, still as irresponsible and lazy as always.

“I’m sorry for being pissy earlier, I just- well- nevermind. Just know that it wasn’t your fault I was that way, alright?” George only hummed in response.

“You know, uh- can I talk to you about something?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even register it, wincing as he realised that he was going to be facing having to ask Clay the dumb question. The dumb question which has been gnawing at his stomach for an hour, making him feel a lot of things in the span of that short time. 

“What’s up?” 

“So uh- what was that earlier?” He asked, hoping the boy would get what he was hinting at.

“What was what?” George internally groaned as he was proven unsuccessful. 

“You- you know, what was that earlier on the ice?” He continued, fiddling with the plastic wrap of his sandwich. His anxiety was coursing through his body, causing his hands to slightly shake and his voice to slightly tremble. Her cocky persona was completely gone, now replaced by a rather timid one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh. 

So he actually didn’t want to talk about it, huh? Well, that hurt just a little bit. 

George’s lips formed a thin line as he nodded, gaze wandering off to look at anything else other than Clay. He stayed silent and said nothing as he kept on nibbling at his sandwich, heart slightly hurting as he realised that indeed his thoughts must’ve been right. It meant nothing and they were going to move on from this, yeah? Then to think of it, what would’ve happened if they had actually kissed? Would it hurt him worse if they had, would Clay have brushed that off too? Or would he have manned up and talked about it with George, talk about their feelings.

Was the brunet and idiot for overthinking this? What if it’s only him who’s trying to make something out of this situation, when nothing was there to begin with.

“George? Are you there? You keep on spacing off.” 

“I’m fine. Let’s just eat and then get skating again, alright?”

\----

“Straighten your right leg! And what even is that posture, oh my god.”

Currently, George was attempting to help Clay learn a few easy poses and flips which he could possibly execute, but there were more obstacles along the way than originally expected. For one, the blond had no posture, he could barely even make it work. Second of all, his skates were obviously not appropriate for ice skating, which was rather an obvious thing, seeing as he was a hockey player. Third of all, he was barely even listening to what the Brit was saying, since he was rather focusing on staring at the blank wall behind them.

“Are you even listening to me?” 

“No.” George let out a frustrated sigh.

“I mean, you’re already proving me right. You can’t even keep up with the difficulty, can you? See, I was right.” The brunet scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he rolled his eyes.

“Keep on rolling your eyes like that, maybe you’ll find a brain back there.”

“That was rude.” 

“So is your mom.” 

The atmosphere was a little less tense right now, but George wasn’t feeling it at all. He was disappointed about the previous events that had occured today, leading him to be in a rather sour mood right now. Honestly, he just wanted to prove the blond wrong and then go home, relax and forget about boys for a short while. 

“Come on, cooperate with me, will you? Now, just skate backwards and do this exact same pose. Bam, you have your first skill down.” He spoke, but was interrupted from continuing by a stray yawn tumbling past his lips. 

“Can’t we just start with hockey and deal with skating later? Please?” 

“Why? Is this too hard for you, Dreamy?” Here it was, the dumb nickname he dared to pull whenever he felt like he should ridicule Clay. It all escalated from the team calling Clay Dream - George still doesn’t know where it came from, but okay - and that resulted into the brunet reshaping it into ‘Dreamy’. 

“No, I just want you to see that hockey is harder, before you try and show me ice skating.” 

That was a dumb excuse.

“In other words, you want to scare me by teaching me hockey first, before I even try and teach you some basic skills?” George questioned, raising one of his eyebrows as he judgingly stared at the tall blond in front of him. “Well, yeah, that’s basically it.” The Floridian quickly responded, then proceeded to skate off towards the exit with no questions asked whatsoever. What he then did was grab his hockey stick and a puck, fix up his duffle back and slide over to the Brit again.

“Now, Georgie, let’s teach you some hockey, yeah?” 

\-----

“Come on, you’re gripping it the wrong way. Just-,” George was growing more and more frustrated with each minute passing.

Hockey sucked.

“Then how else am I supposed to grip it? It’s not my problem, it's too big for me, you giraffe of a man.” He scoffed, butting his bottom lip out as he was yet again corrected. He and Clay have switched from skating to hockey about twenty minutes ago, and so far, he hasn’t even managed to learn how to properly hold the stick, much less even aim and shoot at their makeshift goal.

“Just- stand still.” 

George’s breath was knocked out of his body.

Clay was standing behind him, completely pressed up against him and leaving no space between them. One of his arms was laying on George’s waist, much like it had earlier that day, but this time it was burning even more. His cheeks turned red in a matter of seconds, his hands became sweaty for no reason and he overall felt the same feeling as he had this morning. To be honest, though, who wouldn’t be flustered over the fact that a hot dude was standing behind them, pressed up against them and making sure that they stayed flustered.

Well, at least that’s what George thought. There was no way that Clay didn’t have an idea as to what he was doing to him.

“Now, you have to hold the upper part with your left hand and the lower part with your right.” There was also the issue of George being left handed, meaning that the stick wasn’t even designed for him to hold, but whatever.

“Y-Yeah-,” 

It was becoming even worse now. Clay was speaking directly into his ear, voice soft and a tad bit raspy.

Without thinking, George slowly turned his head to the right, so he could see the blond’s face properly. They were so, so close right now. Three inches apart, that was the maximum amount he would say there was space between them. Their gazes were locked, their lips were parted and mostly, the heat they felt was slowly starting to make them burn. He wanted to close the gap badly, but then again, would it end up badly?

“George?”

“Yeah?”

“Close your eyes.”

He closed his eyes.

And then there were soft lips pressed against his own, then the heat subsided, and then his heart slowly exploded due to the butterflies fluttering inside his body. It was like he could finally breathe, which sounded awfully cliche, but how else could he describe the feeling with something other than ‘nice’. Sure, the position was a bit awkward, but they made it work, and as soon as they pulled away with their cheeks flushed and lips parted, Clay quickly uttered something.

Rushed and barely coherent, but enough for George to make out what he said.

“I like you.”

“I-I like you, too.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah, this is all to it. if you liked it, consider dropping a kudos? and if you have an opinion, you can leave a comment, seeing as i'll most likely respond :)


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